The White Rider

           ’Myverybonesarechilled,’saidGimli,flappinghisarmsandstampinghisfeet.Dayhadcomeatlast.Atdawnthecompanionshadmadesuchbreakfastastheycould;nowinthegrowinglighttheyweregettingreadytosearchthegroundagainforsignsofthehobbits.

           ’Anddonotforgetthatoldman!’saidGimli.’IshouldbehappierifIcouldseetheprintofaboot.’

           ’Whywouldthatmakeyouhappy?’saidLegolas.

           ’Becauseanoldmanwithfeetthatleavemarksmightbenomorethanheseemed,’answeredtheDwarf.

           ’Maybe,’saidtheElf;’butaheavybootmightleavenoprinthere:thegrassisdeepandspringy.’

           ’ThatwouldnotbaffleaRanger,’saidGimli.’AbentbladeisenoughforAragorntoread.ButIdonotexpecthimtofindanytraces.ItwasanevilphantomofSarumanthatwesawlastnight.Iamsureofit,evenunderthelightofmorning.HiseyesarelookingoutonusfromFangornevennow,maybe.’

           ’Itislikelyenough,’saidAragorn;’yetIamnotsure.Iamthinkingofthehorses.Yousaidlastnight,Gimli,thattheywerescaredaway.ButIdidnotthinkso.Didyouhearthem,Legolas?Didtheysoundtoyoulikebeastsinterror?’

           ’No,’saidLegolas.’Iheardthemclearly.ButforthedarknessandourownfearIshouldhaveguessedthattheywerebeastswildwithsomesuddengladness.Theyspokeashorseswillwhentheymeetafriendthattheyhavelongmissed.’

           ’SoIthought,’saidAragorn;’butIcannotreadtheriddle,unlesstheyreturn.Come!Thelightisgrowingfast.